Under Cerulean Skies
by Uskius
Summary: Based on the Saga of Recluce series, this is an epilogue/new beginning for it I've had lurking in the back of my mind for a while.


There was a breeze that played through the decrepit tower of Westwind, carrying a feeling of ages past. Rynna shook off the chill it sent up her spine and continued her trek back to her den. It was built of the smaller black stones that had survived the ages and a mix of branches, what planks of wood and rope and cloth she could steal. On the whole, it looked semi-natural up close and from far away indistinguishable from the rest of the fabled ruins. By no means was it pleasing to the eye, but it was Rynna's home away from home and it was the best she could do or expect, and she liked it anyways.

Or, would that just be home? It was dangerous to be a female in any area of Candar, as her mother had not failed to point out, but few ventured up into the mountains near here. Despite magic supposedly being dead there were still a host of superstitions attached to the place; "Ill fortune" and "demon dreams" being the most common. This was precisely why Rynna had chosen to come here. No hen-pecking mother, no skirt chasing Billus, and no "Lord's Men" raiding the hamlet. In their stead new hardships were gained, but for Rynna, they were worth it. The redhead had tolerated Billus and her mother for near on seventeen years and figured she might could for more, but it was the swine known as The Magi's Vanguard she had really run from. They were a select group of thugs and tell-tales who worked for Lord Osric, under orders to search out those who showed promise, potential to be more than anyone had been since Lerris had brought magic to an end. In practice, they were cads at best and rapists at worst, using their privileges to look for more natural talents.

Unfortunately, however she tried Rynna was known to occupy the slopes near the ancient tower. She was seen setting traps and collecting her bounty, reported to be playing her recorder or scaring off curious children who most definitely should have known better. And yet not once had The Magi's Vanguard found her. And on this day Rynna was particularly grateful for privacy, for at last she had found another treasure hidden deep inside Westwind: a book. The thick black leather cover was cracked, and the pages yellowed with untold age. Settling down in her pile of furs in her den, Rynna carefully opened it to a random page, and began looking over it. As expected only a stray word or character made instant sense to her, but she had slowly been learning the ancient texts. Rynna didn't think herself a scholar, but there was a certain logic to the faded marks that lent itself to understanding, and she had managed to decipher a fair bit of the other books she'd found down in the musty cellars of the keep. There were the usual names that kept popping up: Ryba, Nylan, and the eerily omnipresent Lerris, and names of places like Fairhaven and Naclos and Recluce.

Another word that figured heavily into the contents of Rynna's book collection was _order_. She knew now it was connected to the infamous Black Angels and Mages, and their workings of magic. She also saw it in many things, from the way the words were arranged in the books to the stitching in the clothing she wore and the passing of seasons and so on and so forth. She didn't think of it as magic so much as how things worked; orderly and predictable and _normal_. Having red hair had from birth set Rynna apart, and she had worked hard to develop a mean temperament that could withstand the teasing and retaliate, which became a vicious cycle as Rynna grew into the very stereotype for which she was mocked. There were quiet moments sometimes when Rynna took in the world around her; whether in peace or melancholy she valued them as there was always something to whisk them away. A wandering child who'd heard Rynna playing her recorder, or the sound of an animal caught in one of her traps. Rynna disliked the traps and their brutally predictable work made her queasy, but they were a necessary evil if she was to survive on her own, anyways.

Tuning more pages in the book, Rynna slowly translated it into the more modern script, and began to see that it went into great detail concerning Lerris' final act. The monumental amount of forces at work, the far reaching effects not just on magic but on the political landscape, and even its effects on the physical landscape. And as she neared the last pages, with a certain amount of awe Rynna read of Ryba that despite how utterly _total _Lerris' great act was, it was not _final_. Rynna slowly shook her head, and closed the book with a dusty thump!, as if to prevent any more forbidden knowledge from leaking out. She placed it under the makeshift shelf with the others, and snatched her recorder from on top and headed back out. She would calm her mind by playing the old instrument for a moment.

She took up her usual spot, on the boulder sticking out from the turf a stone's throw away from her den, and sat facing down the slope. She looked at the recorder for a moment: it was an old wooden thing she could barely even remember receiving as a gift during her childhood, a present for something to do with the village school. Closing her eyes Rynna raised it to her lips, and began to play her simple "relaxing tune", a thing she had played a thousand times. Today the pattern of notes sound hopeful, taking on a sweet quality to the sustained notes. The breeze picked up again, carrying fragments of song with it that blew through Rynna's mouth and out from the recorder. This sometimes happened and Rynna did not mind it in the slightest, because for her it always meant she was on the way to truly being calm and relaxed. These breeze-borne notes however overtook the simple pattern Rynna played for relaxation, replacing it with a gentle nostalgic air that carried Rynna away on the winds, lifting her high into the air. She seemed to see her adorable and boring home village and the fields and slopes surrounding it before drifting up into into the sky, feeling the air all around her. Then without warning the music stopped, and Rynna came back to herself. She blinked, afflicted with a sudden headache, and looked up to the sky: where she was sure there had been clear sky a moment before there now was a cloud...


End file.
